Gen55
by Theodora Helena Miller
Summary: The Flock gets a new and super-dangerous member. Take that, Fang Gang. *T for violence.*
1. Chapter 1

"No, Dylan, absolutely not."

"But Fang is doing it."

"That's exactly why I'm not going to do it." I said, folding my arms and trying to fight that irresistable urge to kiss the perfect bird kid in front of me. "No new flock members."

He stepped closer to me. "Please?"

"No!"

Another step. "Please?" I could feel his breath, softly blowing against my skin.

"Absolutely not." I stepped backwards. Then again. Three more steps and I was pressed against the edge of the balcony.

"Please?"

I heard myself saying yes. Dammit…

x-x-x-x-x

"I'm Brittany." The swan girl said. I still couldn't believe I'd been talked into interviewing and auditioning mutants, like it was a job or role. The worst part was, we'd rented an auditorium to hold it. For flying and skill demonstrations, you know.

"Can you survive without lipgloss?" I asked. "If not, get out."

Her smile faltered and she flounced off in a cloud of perfumed white feathers. One down, seventy one to go.

A kid with a turtle shell walked in next.

That would be a huge problem in a fight and no one could carry him to fly. "Nope, sorry kiddo."

I said "No!" a lot that day.

The very last person walked in: a tall, willowy girl with short, spiky black hair and dull, cloudy amber eyes. "According to the laws of irony, I as the last person you're interviewing must be the solution." She said.

"Got a name?" I asked.

"Yes, it's shut up and get moving because I can hear whitecoats and helicopters."

Right on time, fifty or so whitecoats poured in. She had pretty good timing, actually. And excellent hearing.

"Thanks!" Dylan said.

I punched a whitecoat in the stomach and pushed him off the stage when he doubled over. The girl was getting over powered by three whitecoats. It seemed she wasn't the solution. She was more of a liability as of now, and she would be in any fight if she joined the flock.

She headbutted one over and over until his colleague tried to hold her head still while the third readied a hypodermic needle. The mutant sunk her teeth into the second guy's arm. He held onto her head for a moment, but then staggered away. The other whitecoats looked at the arm and let go of the girl, backing away slowly like they'd suddenly realized they were attacking a bear or something.

"I have DNA from opilinids and from _latrodectus mactans_." She said calmly. Now all of the whitecoats started moving away from her. "I think you should have read your files a little better."

Fast as lightning, I kicked the guy who'd been bitten in the small of the back and slammed the heel of my hand into the needle-holder's temple.

The bite victim fell flat and didn't move. It hadn't been a particularly hard blow…

_Black widow._ My Voice said helpfully (wow, what a novel concept!). You know, the ever-so-annoying Voice in my head? If you don't know, learn how to put books in chronological order.

The girl closed her eyes and I watched as one by one the other whitecoats collapsed.

"I can't do that very often. I can stop one person a day or ten in one day but I'll be wiped out for the next month." She said as she dusted off her tight fitting black clothes.

I stared at her. "What was that?"

"I kind of melted their brains. Well, I burst a blood vessel in the brain. For those with superhuman healing, like stab them in the chest and two minutes later they're doing curl ups, it causes a mind-numbing continuous migraine."

"I heal fast." Dylan offered.

She grinned. "Don't tempt me, pretty boy." She said.

"What's your name?"

"Willow. I'm all long and lanky because of the opilinad DNA and Willow sounds like Widow. _Latrodectus mactans_ is better known as the black widow spider."

"And opilinad?" Dylan asked. "What's that?"

"You'd call it a daddy longlegs spider, but in all actuality they aren't spiders. The abdomen is distinctly separate from the—I'll leave it at 'they aren't spiders'."

I looked at Dylan. He was grinning smugly. No, no, no. Not someone this dangerous. Absolutely…

"Come on. Let's get back to the house. We have to introduce you to the rest of the flock."

"So I'm in?" She asked excitedly.

"Yeah." I replied. "You're in."

She punched the air in celebration before calming down. Dylan started explaining the roles of the different flock members. As he detailed my general history, he grinned over his shoulder.

"Shut up, Dylan."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hi, Willow!" I kind of spazzed, not expecting to hear a little girl's voice in my ear. My hands snapped up and I prepared to fight whoever it was. "Don't worry; I'm Angel, part of the flock."

"Don't play poker with her." Someone else advised me. A young boy, only a little older than Angel, was speaking.

"Gazzy, not fair! But yeah, I can read minds. Gazzy's my brother."

Yet another person ran up to me. "Oh my gosh I love your hair! Are you Goth? You look Goth" A girl, older than the other two,

"Who are you? Are you Nudge?"

"Yeah, I'm Nudge. Dylan said you can kill people with your mind. Is that true?"

"I want to be able to do that." Angel said in awe. Then she sounded bored again. "I'm just telepathic. Can you breathe underwater? We all can."

"I don't know. Water and I disagree. I say web, it says wet. I say cosy, dark corner, it says wet."

They all laughed. Dylan walked in. I remembered what his footsteps sound like.

"Hey, Willow, why are you staring at empty space?" Nudge asked suddenly.

"Isn't it obvious?" A new voice asked. A boy, much older than the others, probably Dylan or Max's age. Process of elimination told me it was Iggy. "She's blind."

x-x-x-x-x

I prodded the pancake. O. M. _G_. A guy who could _cook_.

"So, where'd the accent come from?" Iggy asked me as he scraped a pancake onto Dylan's plate.

I picked up my fork and knife and started cutting into tiny bits. "Well, I was raised by British scientists. I pick up accents automatically. I guess you could say it's one of my special skills."

"I can imitate voices!" Gazzy said, sounding exactly like me. "See?"

I laughed, but I was hungry so I duck my head and stabbed one of the pancake bits. I doused it in syrup and ate it, careful not to drip any syrup. Five pairs of eyes were on me, I could feel my hair prickling.

"She eats neatly." Dylan said slowly.

"I didn't know that was possible." Max said.

"When a member of the flock starts being scarily calm and serene, eating neatly and doing other normal stuff, there's only one solution." Gazzy added gravely. "Ice. Cold. Shower."

I jumped up and ran through the house yelling "No!" It was a good thing I'd memorized the layout.

I nearly ran into Iggy. The next thing I knew he had his hand tightly wrapped around my wrist. Oh dear.

x-x-x-x-x

"Brr." I muttered. I was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and completely dry, but the thing about spider DNA is I'm a cold-blooded creature. "It is so not 85 degrees. Dumb thermometer. Its readout function must be faulty."

"There's a fireplace, you know." Iggy said quietly.

I jumped about three feet into the air. I'm super lightweight, so jumping is easy.

"Sorry."

"It's my fault. I relaxed and didn't listen. If you'd been an Eraser we'd all be dead."

Iggy laughed. "You need to relax." He said as he sat down on the couch beside me.

I shook my head as I stood up and sensed my way over to the fireplace. "As the newest flock member I need to bring something new to the table."

"You can zap whitecoats' brains with your brain. You're bringing in plenty."

"I guess."

Aha. Firewood. And… matches. A few minutes later the fire blazed to life.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, Iggy." I flopped back onto the couch. "Only if I get to ask one in return."

"How'd you end up a blind mutant?"

"Oh, that's not personal. The scientists did it. I was a normal human newborn when they grafted the two specially binded DNA. They wanted a wartime weapon, someone they could send across minefields and into enemy territory as a mole. I needed to be lightweight and I needed an ability to kill silently. Spiders are the obvious solution. But you were thinking moreover, why am I blind, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Daddy longlegs don't have eyes, so mine . There are no operational blood vessels in my eyes, the walls of the veins that lead to them sealed off. They're just ornaments."

"What happened to your family?"

"My dad is a history buff and my mom is an arachnophobic. Dad wants to document my life, Mom could barely fight the crippling fear that came whenever I acted spider-like. I found them when I was twelve and I left three weeks later."

"When did you escape the lab?"

"I was twelve. My twelfth birthday. I took out thirteen different people, scientists and Erasers. Of course, I had a migraine—that's a headache caused by swelling of blood vessels in the brain—for a week. And that was after I woke up in the bushes thirty miles away."

"And how did you make sure the rest didn't follow?"

"Bleach and cooking oil in a thin plastic box filled with nails and a foot long fuse."

Iggy laughed. I remember wishing I could see the clouds of red and gold and orange flames billowing with sheets of black smoke rolling off. The news anchor put it that way.

"So, Iggy… Why did you choose the name Iggy of all things?"

"That's your personal question?"

"Hey, it's my turn to ask questions."

"Okay. Well, I was a little kid when we escaped, so it was some random name that sounded cool at the time. Do you think I should change it or something?"

"Heck no! Speaking of names, I've been ordered by Dylan not to speak one, especially not near Max."

"You mean Fang."

"Yeah."

"That's Max's ex and our former second in command."

"He's the Fang from the blog, right? I've read it. He's getting tons of publicity, sort of the misfit mutant hub."

"Yeah."

"Kinda gives the flock a bad rap… Why don't we counter publicize?"

"We've tried speeches and stuff. It's just too dangerous."

"Max needs weight as a leader to save the world. That seems to be the general mission, right? There's only one place for freaks and misfits to go prove themselves good enough to the general public."

"Oh dear."

"Hollywood." I said. "The flock needs to go to Hollywood."


	3. Chapter 3

"No way!" I said firmly. "Not after what happened last time we went show biz!"

The flock looked around at each other before electing Angel spokesperson automatically. "It won't be so disastrous now that we aren't fighting and no whitecoats are poisoning our water to make us adapt." Angel said.

Nudge nodded. "Yeah. I want to go to Hollywood!"

Dylan fixed me with his dreamy eyes. Jerk. "The kids haven't had a vacation in ages." He added.

"Please?" Gazzy, Angel, and Nudge said at the same time.

Willow was utterly impassive. I wondered if she'd show emotion for more than six seconds at a time if I blew up the chair she was lounging in. Probably not.

"Fine. But no speeches." I said.

I couldn't hear myself over the cheering.

x-x-x-x-x Willow POV x-x-x-x-x

"How much did this hotel cost?" I asked, ducking to avoid the goosedown pillow Gazzy was throwing.

"You don't want to know." Angel said grimly. "Soda? It's grape."

I felt the cold can in my hand and thanked her. "Where are Max and Dylan?"

"On a date." Nudge giggled.

Iggy returned fire with another pillow and jumped to avoid the one Gazzy threw back.

"I just knew there was something between them. Is that why Fang left?"

I heard Nudge shrugging. "We don't know." She said.

"Yeah, he was here one day and gone the next. It totally killed Max." Angel said sadly.

Nudge sighed. "Especially when he had her clone join his group.

"Hey, Willow, can I paint your nails?"

"Only if it's black. I don't want bright colors."

"You're no fun. Can I put a rhinestone on the black polish? I bought nail decorations in the gift shop."

"Is the rhinestone colored, Angel?" I asked.

"Nope." She said. "You're safe.

"Okay, fine."

The sensation of a nail polish brush against my cuticles was one I hadn't felt for a while. My mom had taken me to a nail salon and my fellow Gen 55 escapee had kept purple and green nailpolish in her pockets.

"There we go. Wow, it really did dry fast. You look great, Willow!" Nudge squealed.

Hmm. Nail polish and Lysol was an interesting, highly flammable scent. I liked it.

Another pillow whizzing past my ear told me it was time to go out onto the balcony.

The railing was further from the door than I expected. It was a huge balcony. There was a full set of lawn furniture out there: a wrought iron table and five chairs, complete with an umbrella I could hear flapping in the wind over my head.

I sat in one of the chairs and concentrated on the smells and sounds and vibrations of the city below. There was someone else on the balcony. I could hear breathing. A familiar pattern. Not any flock member. And there was someone else, breathing only three feet off the ground.

"Gah! What are you doing here?" I asked, jumping to my feet.

"Business." My best friend said. "As per usual."

"Meghan! I'm so glad you're here, how did you find me, who's this with you?"

"I'm glad I'm here too. You're all over the news: new bird kid, who could it be? This is someone very special and you're going to kill several scientists when you figure out who."

Meghan was normal. Well, no, she wasn't. She was—wait for it—part butterfly. Another kid from my lab, who'd escaped three years before me. The sole survivors of Gen 55.

"I thought you were flying solo, though."

"Well, when I was dismantling another lab I found her, the only living experiment. She looked familiar."

"In what way?"

"She's partially blind, two years old, three and a half feet tall, skinny as can be with long limbs, she's got dark hair and an affinity for heights. Oh, and she's got a red hourglass on her stomach."

I had the hourglass too. Its center was my belly button and it looked like a tattoo, but it was a birthmark. It was the reason Mom had had a panic attack when my white t-shirt got soaked. I'd never mentioned the whole, I-can- put-venom-in-my-teeth-when-I-want-to thing. Awkward.

"Whoa, another spider kid?"

"Not just any spider mutant. I stole her file and broke her out of the dog cage. Her DNA matches yours to the last detail."

"WHAT?"

No way, no way, no way. Only Max was allowed to have a clone. I so did not want to deal with all that. No, no, no. Absolutely not. Maybe it's a mistake. Or maybe Meghan is joking.

"Winifred, meet your big sister. Willow, say hi to your clone."

"Good morning, Willow." Winifred said. That was my voice.

Aw, _crap_.


	4. Chapter 4

"Having a clone sucks." I said quietly, as I sat down beside Willow. She was perched on the edge of the bed Winifred was sound asleep in. "And raising kids when you're barely old enough to have them sucks too."

"I guess you'd know all about it. You've done great, Max. And I hate to ask for favors, but Meghan has to stay somewhere are you could use someone who's accustomed to flying with she is."

"I already gave her permission to spend the night. She's shopping with Angel and Nudge right now."

"You know I don't mean one night."

"And you know I can't put the flock in danger. Can she fight?"

"Try stopping her sometime. When Meghan wants to do something, be it to win a fight or find a great spa for cheap, she has a way of accomplishing it."

"Like, a mutation power?"

"Yeah. She persuades people."

I thought of Dylan. He showed an amazing skill at persuading me and at stopping people with his singing.

"She could get Dylan to reprogram himself and stop being your soulmate. She could bring Fang back. She could convince the world to fall at the flock's feet. But only if she wants to. If it has to happen, she can't. She just wills it to happen."

She was good. She'd withheld that information until she could get a private conference with me. She was clever and loyal to me above the flock. Interesting and useful.

_Looks like you've got your answer_. Oh, shut up, Voice.

"Okay. Meghan can join."

I knew I was going to regret that. I mean, a butterfly? Butterflies are pretty and all that, not like birds of prey.

x-x-x-x-x

"Nudge, this is really, um, pretty; but it's not something I could ever wear. I can't fight or fly in this." When the girls had returned from their shopping, they'd forced me to try on a dull-yet-shimmery brown dress, that looked like it was a bridesmaid dress.

"You could walk in it." Angel said. "That's all you'd be doing, anyway."

I may not have had a top notch education, but I can tell when something's up. "What are you planning?"

"We were thinking we need to spend time on the red carpet, getting photos taken and answering questions." Angel said.

"Can't we go answer questions in jeans?"

"If you become Queen of the world, you're going to be spending some time all cleaned up in formal attire." Meghan added. "Think of it as practice."

A door opened and Willow trudged out. She was in a dress with a wider bottom.

"What the heck am I wearing?" She asked.

Meghan leapt into a technical examination of it: "A natural waisted sage green ball gown with off-the-shoulder, three-quarter sleeves that trail away. The dress is taffeta and the sleeves are tulle. There's a built in corset under the tight-fitting bodice. Oh, and the bodice has silver embroidery and the waist is defined by an edging of silver." And a partridge in a pear tree.

"I can't bend over right now because this corset is evil, but there had better not be a pickup skirt."

"Don't worry." Meghan said as she pulled a pin out of a little sphere that looked like a blue bell pepper and attacked a wrinkle on the dress. "The skirt is gathered but it hangs freely. Very flowing and willowy. Apt, isn't it?"

Dylan and Iggy walked in before I could ask her to repeat that whole conversation in English. I looked up at them and Dylan dropped his soda.

"What? Dylan, what is it?" Iggy snapped irritably, shaking his leg to get the sticky soda off his shoes.

Dylan was still staring at me. "Max is wearing a dress."

"Yes Dylan, believe it or not, I am a girl."

"A dress?" Iggy said, scandalized. "What do you mean, a dress?"

"It's brown and kinda shimmery. And it doesn't have sleeves or anything."

"It's a chocolate brown waist-hugging strapless dress made of taffeta. And it brushes the ground." Meghan added helpfully. I actually caught most of that.

"We got dresses for all of us girls and suits for you guys." Nudge gushed. "We're going to go on the red carpet, isn't it amazing?"

"Suits? I'm not wearing a suit!" Iggy complained.

I laughed evilly. Finally, someone to take my annoyance out on. "Oh yes you are. If I'm wearing a dress everyone is going to wear formal clothes." I said in my most commanding tone.

"I don't think I can walk in this." Willow commented.

"You're going to have to learn fast." Angel told her. "I told the press we'd be there tomorrow."

This is what I got for taking in three more strays. You'd think I'd have learned with Total and Dylan…


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for reviewing. I did some serious "spider" (mostly opilinad) research, but it was actually an hour before I began writing. I'd seen a daddy longlegs using its second from the front set of legs to ghost over surfaces before it moved, like it couldn't see. From there I read several articles on it and decided to write a Maximum Ride fanfiction featuring a spider-y mutant in order to counter Eva Cormac (she's stealing Iggy! I ordered her to stick with Leven Thumps!). Sorry about all the fashion (which I also researched previously for a random reason) but torturing Max is just too much fun. Action will show up soon. I promise.**

"Ready?" Dylan asked.

"Nope." I said. "Let's go."

Dylan opened the limo door for me and helped me climb out. He offered me his arm and Nudge took his other arm. I concentrated on taking neat, graceful little steps and tried to ignore the flashing lights as a thousand cameras went off. Behind me, Iggy was walking with Willow and Meghan on either arm.

The door to the limo closed behind Angel and Gazzy and Winifred; Jeb drove off, leaving us to the reporters.

"Good evening." I said. My voice was quiet 'cause my throat was dry, so I swallowed. "We're really glad to be here and to answer any questions you might have. We just ask that you speak one at a time, turn off the flashes, and don't cross the rope."

"Who are the new ones?" A man yelled, holding out a microphone.

"I'm Willow, and this is my little sister Winifred."

"I'm Meghan, Willow's best friend."

A middle-aged woman pushed her way up to the front. "Willow, do you and your sister have wings?"

"No. We're part spider and part opilinad."

"Meghan, what about you?" Another person asked. "Are you part spider or part bird?"

She shook her wings out from under her curly brown hair. They were orange with black stripes, which explained why her cocktail dress was black with orange accessories.

"Ooh, a monarch butterfly!" Nudge whispered excitedly.

"I'll take your word for that, Nudge." I replied.

"Max, why did you and Fang split up?" Someone asked.

"We decided it would be best if he led an entirely separate flock of his own after we recognized the full potential of his blog." I lied.

Another microphone shot out under my nose. "Do you honestly believe the world is ending and it's your job to save it?"

"Yes. We were made for that reason. I'd like to tell you more," Okay, so maybe not. "But I can't disclose any further information at this time." Mostly because I didn't know myself.

"Have you and your flock found Jesus?" Another news anchor asked.

"We don't take sides in religion." Angel interrupted smoothly. I flashed her a grateful look.

The microphone didn't relinquish its spot. "But we've had reports you were seen praying at a church in New York last year."

"Um…"

Dylan rescued me. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'don't knock it till you try it'?"

"Dylan, will you sing for us?" Someone else said, and everyone fell silent as they waved their microphones expectantly.

Angel exchanged a knowing look with Dylan and he started singing a song I didn't recognize:

"It's been one of those days for a lot of days now

I need a day when the world can take care of itself

This isn't what I wanted how I thought my life would turn out

And I wonder if it's like this from here on out

Sometimes life gets you, but we go on

Sometimes life gets you, we're still going on

We're not done yet

Not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends

We're not done yet, don't take it too seriously

It's just life will win in the end

And we walk on and on and on and we walk on and on

It's been one of those days for too many days now

I did a thing that I didn't want to do again

I fell down in the place where I always fall down and I wanna give up

And let it be what it's been

Sometimes life gets you, but we go one

Sometimes life gets you we're still going on...

We're not done yet

Not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends

We're not done yet, don't take it too seriously

It's just life will win in the end

And we walk on and on and on and we walk on and on

It's been one of those days but I don't care now

It was only a day and tomorrow's ahead

We got this far and I know that I can ride this one out

Though I want to lie down, well I won't quit yet

Sometimes life gets you, but we go one

Sometimes life gets you we're still going on...

We're not done yet

Not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends

We're not done yet, don't take it too seriously

It's just life will win in the end

We're not done yet

Not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends

We're not done yet, don't take it too seriously

It's just life will win in the end

We're not done yet

Not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends

We're not done yet, don't take it too seriously

It's just life will win in the end

And we walk on and on and on and we walk on and on."

There was a silence before everyone started cheering. "Another, another!" They all yelled.

Angel, Nudge, Dylan, and Meghan moved to each other.

"You're not alone  
>Together we stand<br>I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand  
>When it gets cold<br>And it feels like the end  
>There's no place to go<br>You know I won't give in  
>No I won't give in<p>

Keep holding on  
>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through<br>Just stay strong  
>'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you<br>There's nothing you could say  
>Nothing you could do<br>There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
>So keep holding on<br>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

So far away  
>I wish you were here<br>Before it's too late, this could all disappear  
>Before the doors close<br>And it comes to an end  
>With you by my side I will fight and defend<br>I'll fight and defend  
>Yeah, yeah<p>

Keep holding on  
>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through<br>Just stay strong  
>'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you<br>There's nothing you could say  
>Nothing you could do<br>There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
>So keep holding on<br>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

Hear me when I say, when I say I believe  
>Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny<br>Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly  
>Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah<p>

La da da da  
>La da da da<br>La da da da da da da da da

Keep holding on  
>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through<br>Just stay strong  
>'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you<br>There's nothing you could say  
>Nothing you could do<br>There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
>So keep holding on<br>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

Keep holding on  
>Keep holding on<p>

There's nothing you could say  
>Nothing you could do<br>There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
>So keep holding on<br>'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through."

Where the heck did they learn those songs? And since when were we a travelling troupe of entertainers?

Dylan had some explaining to do. But, as Willow grabbed my arm and said just one little word, I decided it could wait.

It's amazing how quickly I react to "whitecoats".

**Thanks for reading and putting up with my two fave songs for this particular group. REVIEW. Yes, that little blue hyperlink at the bottom of the page. Use it. Not after you get some lunch or save the world or use the restroom. Right now. Scroll, click, type. Then you can get some lunch. Bad things comes to those who wait to review. That's an old proverb. I made it up ten seconds ago.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hiya guys! As a general note, whitecoats is my general term for "any member of various and sultry groups, organizations, corporations, Schools, etc. that have it out for mutants and want Willow (or Winifred) back since she's their little weapon". Someone pointed out that whitecoats are the white-coat-wearing scientists, so I thought I'd explain that. Sorry for any confusion.**

**Don't worry about Miggy, that's an absolutely ridiculous couple. I'll prolly be inserting Max/Fang AND Max/Dylan stuff later. With possible Maya/Fang. I need to stop being so obsessed with love triangles, but this one is too much fun. Clones? Soulmates? This is better than Merlin! Almost.**

**No more lyrics. I've just been thinking the whole time "oh my gosh these songs are soooo Max's." Sorry 'bout that.**

**And thank you for warning me about OCcentricity. *kills off one OC and sends other off* Better?**

I didn't have time to check on the newest flock members. They'd have to deal with it themselves.

I lashed out with the heel of my sneakers (of course I didn't wear the ridiculous strappy heels Nudge picked out) and caught one in the groin. That took care of him for a while. A needle pricked my arm and I headbutted the person, who was wearing a black ski mask, connected to it before the contents had gone near my veins.

As I struggled with one of the men, I caught a few glimpses of the three newcomers.

"She's blind, she won't be able to hit anyone." Someone said.

That same person gasped as Willow swung around and kicked him in the chest. "Oh, the Department sent mouth-breathers. The survivors can thank them for making it easy for me."

"Pfft." Meghan said. "Since when do we leave survivors?"

Beyond them, Dylan and Iggy were fighting a group of six.

"3 o'clock." Dylan called to him as he attacked another one, who was trying to sneak up on Iggy.

Angel and Gazzy were with Winifred, but they were too far away for me to see anything besides flashes of blonde and black hair or hear anything they were saying.

Ow."Stop jabbing me with needles!"The heel of my hand found the needle-pusher's nose, and the syringe clattered to the ground.

My calm politeness for the reporters from earlier was long gone, out the window. A girl can only put up with it for so long, and after the tedious fashion stuff of the past few days, I was ready for some serious action. I grabbed the back of another someone's head and slammed it down into my knee as I brought my knee up super fast. _Crunch_.

I nearly tripped over a small cylinder. Well, my foot came down on it and I lost my balance as my foot rolled away with it. I picked it up and snapped my elbow into the stomach of the masked guy also reaching for it.

He doubled over, conveniently located in front of my hands. "Oof."

"So, let's see what's in the needle, shall we?" I stabbed randomly into his arm. "Wanna tell me, or should I push it?"

"Sedatives. We need the clone alive. Please…" The coward gasped, willing to sell out his boss in the hope of mercy.

I pushed the stopper all the way down.

He stumbled away from me, falling to the ground in a daze. I knew he was fighting the substance's effects, to no avail, and I felt a phantom tingling in my veins as I remembered the cold liquids creeping up my veins. His vision would be blurring, and time would be stretching as his body was torn between listening to the chemicals or following his instinctive struggle against it.

The chemicals won.

Without stopping to discard the needle, I kicked out and swept the feet of another anonymous whitecoat out from under their owner.

It was so tempting to fill the needle with air and kill 'em that way, but though I was no expert of morals I was pretty sure giving them some of their own medicine was hyperbole… or was that hypocrisy?

Besides, I had already felt rather than saw a whitecoat and punched him. Nothing works like a good old right hook.

A walkie-talkie—I thought those had all been replaced by cell phones—buzzed on the ground and I picked it up. "We've got Subject eight-eight-alpha-two. Retreat. Over."

Who the heck was Subject 88A2?

The remaining masked men started running, disappearing into white windowless vans. The last thing I saw of them was three carrying a kicking, screaming little girl with black hair into one of the vehicles. Then they were gone, zigzagging through lanes of traffic and even crashing along on sidewalks.

"One dead, one gone."Willow muttered. "Straight up Willow luck."

"Dead?" I asked, spinning around to look for Angel.

"Meghan." Willow reported, still completely calm.

"How'd she die?"

She shrugged. "She tried to take on one too many people at once in an attempt to rescue Winifred."

Resolving to get to the bottom of Willow's disregard for her dead friend _later_, I sent Dylan to find cops and move the rest of us to the relative safety of our hotel.

.oOo.

"Willow?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, Max."

I sat down. It certainly wasn't exactly pitch black here, but it came pretty close. She'd turned off all the

"Are you alright?"

"I presume you are referring to the death of my friend." She said mechanically. "Honestly, I'm fine. See?"

If it had been anyone but the person who didn't even blink at the sight of a dead friend, I might've thought it a joke. It turned out it was, oddly enough.

"Sight-related humour. I thought it my release the tension. Never mind; would you like some coffee? It appears that it's standard for hotels to stock it, though I daresay they could've made it a lot easier for me to find with brail."

"You read brail?"

"No one wanted to teach me some of the more boring aspects to being a soldier, so I was appointed a tutor whose one purpose was to teach me to read brail. Apparently they make manuals to bombs in brail these days."

"Oh." Was all I said. She talked like… well, like a British scientist.

"Would you like to continue to beat around the bush or ask me straight out why I'm not all that upset by Meghan's death?"

"I suppose that works." I said. "Why aren't you upset?"

She sighed, and paced back and forth in front of me. The movement stirred up dust bunnies and I fought the urge to sneeze. She'd ordered the cleaning crews to stay out of the room, and the dust had built up surprisingly fast.

"You're what, 97% human?"

"98."

"Well, I'm 94% human. Emotions are harder for me, and I tend to stand in metaphorical corners until directly threatened, even if a close friend is in danger. Humans are social, spiders and harvestmen aren't."

"Is that why you're so calm and formal?"

"I _can_ relax, be friendly. But last time I relaxed completely, my friend Zach decided to play a prank on me. I didn't hear him coming. I only noticed when the wind caused by his movements stirred my hair. I panicked, lost control of my powers. He died."

Dead silence. I made a mental note to never surprise Willow as I fidgeted awkwardly with a tassel on the chair.

"So once again, you could say I'm dead inside. I suppose that's why it doesn't unduly bother me that you came to check on me because you wanted to make sure I'm not a sociopath. Don't worry. I feel emotion differently if at all, but I am still 94% human."

"Oh. Um, would you like to go to the funeral? We had one arranged…"

"Thank you. I don't fully understand the concept of a funeral, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Wow, she really was robotic.

"Well, um, I'll leave you in peace then…" I said, backing out slowly. She sighed and flopped backwards on the bed as the door closed.

**I'm working on updating every single one of my stories, so this isn't where I'd like it to be, but too freaking bad.**


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